They must see the prisoner at the hatch. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles. ‘What is it?’ asked Roding. After all, why should I care what strangers think?" Ruth asked with sudden heat. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops.
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